


Calling Out Your Name

by Talizora



Series: My Tumblr Ficlets and Drabbles [5]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Heterosexual Sex, Infidelity, Multi, but i kept is as minimal as possible, john has a mind palace and it’s full of naked sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9668711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talizora/pseuds/Talizora
Summary: Written forkimbiabluewho asked: So can we talk about all the times John has almost or actually called Mary “Sherlock” in bed???He knew it was wrong. So very, very wrong but he couldn’t stop. In his head he wasn’t fucking his wife, he was fucking his best friend, the most brilliant, gorgeous and ridiculous human being he’d ever met.





	

The problem, John thought was Sherlock. He always seemed to be at the root of all John’s worries. The current issue John was having hadn’t exactly been caused by Sherlock but it involved him.

John was at this moment meant to be enjoying his wedding night with his wife. They’d had a bit of a surprise at the reception, one more deduction than Sherlock was expecting. Now without the need to be careful about an unplanned pregnancy (apparently John had already failed in that aspect) Mary had asked that their first time having sex as a married couple be without barriers between them.

How could John refuse? So now John found himself enjoying unprotected sex with his wife for the first time. If John was honest, that wasn’t the issue, not at all. The issue was he couldn’t get Sherlock’s best man speech out of his head. The even bigger issue was that John couldn’t stop thinking about Sherlock while having sex with his wife.

John was almost positive Mary hadn’t noticed the first slip up, his voice had been too soft and breathy. Thank god for small miracles, Mary had wanted to be on all fours with John behind her. At least that way she couldn’t see that he’d been keeping his eyes closed.

He knew it was wrong. So very, very wrong but he couldn’t stop. In his head he wasn’t fucking his wife, he was fucking his best friend, the most brilliant, gorgeous and ridiculous human being he’d ever met. The position that Mary had chosen only helped the fantasy. He found himself avoiding holding her hips, Sherlock’s hips didn’t curve like that. Instead, he focused on Mary’s arse, patting and squeezing it. Pulling her cheeks apart and pushing them together again to increase the friction and pressure on his cock.

Mary seemed to be enjoying it, which only allowed John to lose himself more in his head. “Oh Christ, so good.” John moaned. Sherlock’s arse would be divine, John wanted to slap it until it turned pink then lick every inch until Sherlock begged him to stop. John wanted to suck bright blooming love bites all over his arse and down the backs of his legs. John wanted to reduce Sherlock to a puddle of need. How sensitive was Sherlock’s arse? Could John make him cum from that stimulus alone?

“Fuck, Sher-shit, so-sooo good.” That was close, reign it in John. You’re going too deep into fantasy now. It’s beyond bad form to call someone else’s name during sex, let alone on your wedding night. Focus on your wife Watson. He scolds himself.

John’s eyes just peek open, just for a moment and his fantasy shatters like glass. Beneath him it isn’t Sherlock, it’s Mary, his wife. She’s moaning and pressing back into him. She hasn’t noticed, thank Christ. John presses into her a bit harder, changes his angle and she shivers and moans a bit louder.

John’s eyes fall closed again. Sherlock is kneeling in front of him, that sinfully plump mouth is red and wet and, oh god, wrapped around John’s cock. “Sh-Sh, ah! Mary!” John catches himself again, fucking hell. This is getting out of control Watson. You’re fucking your wife, not your best friend.

John grits his teeth and increases his speed. Mary is starting to peak, a few more perfectly angled thrusts and she’ll climax. Usually John is good at timing it so that he finishes at the same time or right after Mary. But not this time, he’s a long way from climax. The shattering of his fantasy and the reality of who he’s fucking keeps bringing him down.

At this rate he’ll start to loose feeling and then it’ll just over. No point going on, he’ll just end up sore and then he’ll lose his erection and Mary isn’t that stupid. He’s not a woman, it’s not as easy to fake it. John scrunches his eyes closed, gives in and focuses on the Sherlock in his mind.

He’s so beautiful, he’s standing in the kitchen of 221B, bent over his microscope. His silk dressing gown has slipped off one shoulder, his t-shirt underneath is tight, a few sizes too small. It’s ridden up to expose his belly. He looks edible. Suddenly the fantasy changes and John has him on his back, spread out before him like some erotic banquet. John is looking down at Sherlock, he’s flushed and panting, his pupils are blown wide.

John can’t breathe, he can see it so clearly in his head. Sherlock gasping his name, groaning, and wrapping his long legs around John’s hips and pulling him closer, deeper into himself.

“Sh-sh…ock!” John gasps and thrusts harder. Sherlock is looking at him, he won’t take his eyes off John. They’re moving and staring at each other, John can see him wriggle and squirm beneath him. He’s so close now, he just needs a bit more, John leans forward and presses their chests together. Sherlock’s prick is trapped between them, it slides up and down John’s stomach lubricated by sweat.

John presses even closer, trying to reach Sherlock’s lips. Damn their height difference. Sherlock gasps and moans, “Jawwwwnnn!” he lisps. God, when John first heard the lisp on his stag night he’d almost jumped him. It was the sexiest thing John had ever heard.

In his mind John can reach Sherlock’s lips and kisses him, they gasp and lick into each others mouths. “Sher-S-So close!”

“It’s always you, John Watson.” Sherlock gasps and John can’t think anymore it’s too much. He’s coming, pressing himself into Mary, trying to get deeper. Like he knows Sherlock would be able to. John collapses onto Mary’s back, panting. His mind spinning.

“Get off me John.” Mary snaps.

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr [here](http://tali-zora.tumblr.com/post/154268273684/so-can-we-talk-about-all-the-times-john-has-almost).


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